


Calling Dr. Morse

by stjarna



Series: 25 Days Christmas Romance Challenge and AoS Advent 2017 [7]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (Seriously: Fitzsimmons are strictly a brotp here!), 25 Days of Christmas Prompt Challenge, BROTP: Fitzsimmons, Christmas at the ER, F/F, Meet Cute AU, OTP: Simmorse/Mockingnerd, mockingnerd, simmorse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 13:05:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12935907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: From the25 Days of Christmas Romance ChallengeDay 6: Character A and Character B meet in the ER on Christmas Eve.





	Calling Dr. Morse

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to @dilkirani for the beta and to @lilsciencequeen for giving it a pre-read.

Bobbi pulled back the curtain and stepped into the small examination room. She paused for a moment, looking at the young couple that seemed unaware she had entered, entirely absorbed in an argument of sorts.

“You asked me to fix it!” said the young man sitting on the hospital bed and pressing a cloth soaked with blood to his forehead.

The young woman standing next to the bed threw one hand in the air. “Yes, well, I didn’t think you’d be so reckless about it!”

“I was plenty careful. It’s the bloody apartment with its ruddy lack of structural integrity!”

Bobbi decided that maybe she should move on with her workday. She cleared her throat, causing the woman to stop mid “Oh plea—!”

Both their heads shot in Bobbi’s direction, both with a rather deer-in-headlight expression.

“Leopold, I’m Bobbi Morse,” Bobbi introduced herself, taking a look at her clipboard.

“Fitz,” both of them replied in unison, causing Bobbi to squint in confusion.

“I prefer Fitz,” the man muttered at the same time the woman said, “He prefers Fitz.”

“Oh.” Bobbi couldn’t quite suppress an amused smile. “And you are?” she asked the young woman.

“I’m Jemma.” Jemma’s lips pulled into a beaming smile that caused her soft whiskey-brown eyes to sparkle. Bobbi couldn’t help but get lost in the deep golden ocean for a moment until she remembered the woman hadn’t arrived at the ER alone.

She cleared her throat. “Alright, good, excellent.” Bobbi turned to look at her patient, who seemed to be looking back and forth between Bobbi and Jemma with a rather knowing look that made Bobbi just a bit nervous. “So, Fitz, what happened?”

“He tried to repair a light fixture in our apartment,” Jemma began to explain in his place.

“Tried to?” Fitz exclaimed, wide-eyed and clearly insulted. “I had succeeded until that bloody thing decided to fall off the ceiling.”

“Well, you should have been more careful. Now we’re stuck at the ER. On Christmas Eve no less, just because you—” Jemma began, indignantly

“Okay, let’s take a closer look at this,” Bobbi interrupted her, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Yes, of course,” Jemma said at the same time Fitz muttered a quiet, “Yeah, good idea.”

Bobbi leaned closer to inspect Fitz’s wound, her eyes wandering up briefly to where Jemma was standing. Once again, a slight flutter rushed through Bobbi’s stomach that she tried desperately to ignore.

“So, how long have you been dating?” she asked, carefully dabbing some of the blood away to get a better look at the wound. She hoped that a friendly verbal reminder that Jemma was taken would help her brain to stop sending certain signals to various other regions of her body.

“Oh, not that again,” Fitz mumbled grumpily.

Bobbi wrinkled her forehead, looking up.

Jemma smiled. “Oh, we’re not dating. We’re roommates. Well, best friends _and_ roommates. You’re most certainly not the first to get the wrong impression though. But no. God, no. Just. No.”

“That’s a no then?” Bobbi asked, unable to keep from smiling.

“Yeah, definitely a no,” Fitz confirmed. “Although the fact that people keep assuming as much really gets in the way of my game.”

“Oh, please!” Jemma scoffed. “That’s the least of your problems.”

Fitz turned his head to look at where Jemma was standing. “I’m in the ER on Christmas Eve with a head wound. Do you _really_ need to add insult to a literal injury?”

“Alright,” Bobbie replied, chasing after Fitz’s face with her hands to give his wound one more quick look-over. “My bad about making assumptions. Now—” She straightened up. “That’s a pretty deep cut there, so I—”

“You should start by flushing the wound, I’d say,” Jemma interrupted unexpectedly. “And presumably look for any signs of splinters. I mean, it _was_ a glass lampshade. And then standard protocol—”

“You’re a doctor?” Bobbi asked, surprised.

Jemma shook her head, a shy smile playing on her lips. “Not that kind of doctor.”

“She acts like one though,” Fitz remarked drily, causing Jemma to squint in annoyance.

“Well, I have _plenty_ of knowledge,” she replied snarkily.

“Yeah, well,” Bobbi interjected, one corner of her mouth ticking up. “I have plenty of knowledge _and_ experience. So how about you let me take this one?”

Jemma drew in a surprised gasp, raising her hands apologetically. “Of course. My apologies. That was rather rude. I certainly did not mean to imply—I just get concerned when this clumsy here gets himself in trouble again.”

“Trouble?” Fitz squeaked. “You asked me to—”

“Shush.” Jemma waved him off. “How about we let Doctor Morse do her job now, Fitz.”

Bobbi chuckled. “It’s Bobbi. As in the name usually short for ‘Robert,’ but in my case, ‘Barbara,’ which, to me, is worse”

Jemma laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh, I think it’s rather lovely. Has such a nice ring to it, doesn’t it, Fitz? Bobbi. It’s lovely.”

Fitz hummed a half-hearted “Mmmhmm” while looking skeptically at his roommate.

“Thanks.” Bobbi smiled back at the young English woman. “Jemma rolls off the tongue pretty easily, too.”

Jemma’s chuckle sounded rather adorable, and Bobbi couldn’t help but notice the young woman had a bit of a blush about herself that gave Bobbi a warm and optimistic feeling.

“Ah, yes, yes it does, I suppose,” Jemma stammered, sounding a bit breathy. “It’s actually a morph of my parents’ names, Jezza and Emma.”

Bobbi couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped her lips. “That’s cute.”

“Not to interrupt you two, but—” Fitz suddenly piped up, causing Bobbi to immediately shift focus.

“Right,” she remarked firmly, gesturing over her shoulder. “I need to get a suture kit and some other stuff, and then we’ll stitch you up in no time and send you back on your merry ways.”

Jemma laughed out loud, pressing her palm against her chest. “Oh. How funny.” She flipped her hand in the other direction. “Get it, Fitz. Merry ways. Like merry Christmas. Because it’s Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, it’s _quite_ hilarious,” Fitz replied rather unconvincingly. “I can barely contain myself.”

Bobbi chuckled, fully aware her joke really hadn’t been that funny, but bathing in the fact that Jemma considered it so amusing. She pointed with both fingers at Fitz and Jemma. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

* * *

Jemma turned around, scrunching her nose and grinning ear to ear. “Well, she seems rather nice and competent, don’t you think?”

Fitz tried in vain to hide a knowing smirk, glancing at his noticeably smitten best friend. “Uh-huh.”

“Although.” Jemma ticked her head to one side, rolling her eyes. “She made the same ridiculous assumption as everyone else. Us dating. Tsk.”

“Yep.” Fitz nodded in agreement. “I think she was pleased with our answer though.”

“Hmm?” Jemma hummed a wordless question, her eyes once again focusing on the curtain.

Fitz chuckled briefly before clearing his throat. “I think she quite fancies you?”

Jemma’s head shot around immediately. “What?” she squeaked in that very telling tone of hers, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“And _you_ fancy _her_.” Fitz pointed at his roommate.

“Oh, please!” Jemma scoffed, crossing her arms protectively in front of her chest, but unable to stop one of her hands from gesturing wildly. “Just because she’s a smart and charming doctor, with presumably intricate knowledge of medicine, chemistry, biology, and… and the human body, and just because she has a lovely symmetrical face, and rather dashing smile, and long wavy hair that looks like a wheat field in the sun, and—” She paused, furrowing her brow. “Where was I?”

Fitz choked on a single snort of laughter, covering his mouth with his fist and letting the coughing fit subside before grinning back at Jemma. “I think you were trying to tell me that you don’t fancy her. But you’re really, really, _really_ unconvincing, Simmons.”

“Yes, well—”

“Ask her for her phone number,” Fitz blurted out, not willing to give Jemma another excuse to talk herself out of obvious facts.

“What?” Jemma’s eyes widened in shock. “Have you completely lost your marbles?”

Fitz shrugged. “Why? Just mention that you want a way to get in touch with her in case I have any complications.”

Jemma gasped. “Fitz! That would be incredibly inappropriate.”

Fitz shook his head. “I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Jemma squinted, once again crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You must have hit your head a lot harder than I thought.”

Fitz pursed his lips, lifting his shoulders. “If you don’t do it, I will.”

Jemma drew in a surprised breath. “Oh, don’t you dare, Leopold Fi—”

Her mouth fell shut and she stared at Fitz with a deer-in-headlight expression when the curtain to the examination room was pulled back. Fitz couldn’t help but grin at his best friend with mischief.

“Alright,” Bobbi announced, stepping back into the room with a little cart in tow, “here we go. Let’s get you stitched up, shall we?”

Fitz’s mood immediately dropped below freezing. He forced a sarcastic smile and muttered a sad “Yay.”

“Lie down with your head towards me, please,” Bobbi instructed and Fitz did as he was told.

Bobbi pulled up a rolling stool and positioned herself so she could easily get to Fitz’s head wound. She grabbed some latex gloves from the cart and put them on, looking at Jemma. “How’s he with needles?”

Jemma scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Awful. Although I think he prefers them to cat livers.”

“Oy, Simmons!” Fitz exclaimed. “I’m at the ER on Christmas Eve with a head wound that needs stitching. Could you at the very least spare me the cat liver story? Just this once?”

“He gets grumpy when he’s hurt, doesn’t he?” Bobbi asked, seemingly amused.

“He gets grumpy a lot, actually,” Jemma confirmed.

“Stop talking about me in the third person, will ya? I’m right here,” Fitz remarked, regretting the fact that he was basically proving their point. But the two seemed to have forgotten about him anyways.

“Unlike you,” Bobbi addressed Jemma. “ _You_ seem to have a rather bright outlook at life.”

“For the most part, yes,” Jemma replied, her tone rather smitten.

Fitz rolled his eyes. He was happy that Jemma and his doctor seemed to get along swimmingly, but an injured Scotsman could only take so much. “I hate to interrupt your conversation, but could we finally do something about the gash on my noggin?”

* * *

“Alright.” Bobbi pulled off her gloves and placed them back on the tray. “That’s it. As good as new.”

Fitz pushed himself back up to sitting. “Thanks.”

“Yes. Thank you so much, Bobbi. Excellent work.” Jemma grimaced slightly, realizing how ridiculous her statement must have sounded.

_Gosh, what happened to my brain? Maybe Bobbi should examine me next. Nice and thoroughly. With those long fingers and… Oh stop it, Jemma. She’s a doctor. A professional. Oh, good, now I’m talking to myself._

Jemma’s train of thought was thankfully interrupted when Bobbi accepted her compliment with a polite “Thanks” and a beaming smile.

“Well, then,” Jemma stammered, grabbing her jacket and Fitz’s from the hook on the wall, and stretching Fitz’s out in his direction. “Fitz, let me take you home.”

“Yeah, sure, right.” Fitz replied, raising one finger in the air. “Just one second.”

Jemma could see that sparkle in his eyes that told her he was up to no good.

“Fitz,” she growled through her teeth, holding his jacket a little closer, but to her dismay Fitz ignored her.

“I just have one question, Bobbi,” he remarked, in an overly friendly manner.

“Of course, Fitz.” Bobbi replied, smiling widely. “Shoot away.”

Fitz held out one hand, palm up, pursing his lips. “What if there are any complications with the wound? Is there any way to get in touch with you to ask for your advice?”

Jemma felt her cheeks burning up. _Oh you ruddy excuse of a friend._

“I mean,” Fitz continued, seemingly unimpressed with the imagined daggers Jemma was throwing his way. “Jemma really and truly trusts you and your very capable hands, Bobbi, which says a lot.”

“Fitz,” Jemma hissed, indignantly, taking a step closer and waving Fitz’s jacket in front of his face, trying not to look at Bobbi.

“And if I, say,—” Fitz went on, not even glancing in Jemma’s direction, “pass out, and Jemma’s all alone with unconscious me, whom should she call?”

“Fitz.” Jemma put on her best fake smile, slamming Fitz’s jacket against his chest, and glaring threateningly at her best friend. “I’m sure we will be just fine.”

A hint of a mischievous smile flashed across Fitz’s lips, and Jemma’s eyes widened as she realized he would not back down.

“Oh, I don’t know, Jemma,” Fitz replied, and she wished she could wipe that triumphant grin off his face. “I would feel a _lot_ better if you had Bobbi’s phone number for future reference. To call night and day. I mean, you could probably reimburse her for all the troubles we’re putting her through by taking her out to dinner.”

Jemma gasped, her eyes briefly darting in Bobbi’s direction before returning to her insufferable roommate. “Leopold James Fitz, I think the pain killer Doctor Morse gave you earlier is having some side effects already.”

“Well,” Bobbi suddenly remarked, causing Jemma to spin around in surprise. “In that case, I think Fitz is right and I _should_ give you my phone number. To call night or day. And—” Bobbi’s lips pulled into a suggestive smile, as she retrieved a post-it pad from her coat pocket and scribbled her number on it. She pulled the post-it off the pad and stretched her hand out in Jemma’s direction. “I might not be opposed to the whole dinner idea either.”

“Oh,” Jemma stammered, nodding slightly with her eyes having doubled in size and her voice sounding awfully breathy. “Well. Well. Well.”

Jemma swallowed and awkwardly cleared her throat, feeling frozen to the spot, until Fitz nudged her. “Just take the number, Simmons.”

Jemma’s eyes briefly darted in Fitz’s direction, who was smiling encouragingly. She bobbed her head, taking the post-it from Bobbi. “Right. Thank you. Pleasure meeting you. You’re amaz—.”

“Stop talking, Simmons,” Fitz whispered into her ear. “End on a high note.”

Jemma fell silent, chuckling awkwardly.

“Looking forward to your call, Jemma,” Bobbi said, while Fitz gently tugged on Jemma’s arm, directing her towards the curtain as he bid his doctor goodbye and wished her “Happy holidays.”

Jemma followed Fitz, but her eyes were still completely mesmerized by the beautiful doctor who had made their trip to the ER on Christmas Eve so much better.

**Author's Note:**

> I shamelessly borrowed the idea that Jemma's name was a combo of her parent's names Jezza and Emma from the amazing fic ["A June Wedding" by @memorizingthedigitsofpi](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5221412) ... and if you haven't read this fic yet: READ IT! It's just one of the absolute best Fitzsimmons fics on the planet and should be turned into a movie!


End file.
